Letters from Pegasus
by Stargatefriends
Summary: Added TAG to the episode. firedew threw the idea into the group and Mysra and Amycat picked it up. "I was talking about this episode with someone a while back, and we were discussing the part at the end where John says goodbye to the camera. Knowing what we know now about John's background, it begs the question, who was he saying goodbye to?"
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! This story is by **Mysra** and **Amycat8733** and we are part of the group known collectively as **Stargatefriends**. This is our first collaboration. We hope you enjoy it and please let us know what you think.

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Part 1

"I'm not sure if Colonel Sumner's parents are still alive. Um, I'm not sure he even has a family back there - not all of us do. But if he does have a family, they should know that he died with honor and courage in the performance of his duty. He carried the burden of a leader, and he carried it well. I didn't get the chance to know him well, but I know this: considering the type of man he was, and what we're up against, well, I wish he was still here."

Major John Sheppard blew out a breath and thought how much he wished to not be in command right now. He briefly closed his eyes, his fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose hoping to keep the ever growing headache at bay. After a moment he looked up again. He took the few steps to the camera and pressed the stop button. He rewound the few seconds showing his weakness. For a moment he studied the camera in his hand.

"_I have allowed this nonsense long enough." John Sheppard cringed; sure his father's angry voice was loud enough to be heard in the stables. His own defiance rose. He was not fourteen anymore. He was an adult, for God's sake, and a Captain in the Air Force. John couldn't help crossing his arms over his chest, knowing that would push his father's buttons even more._

"_You will go to Nancy, tell her how sorry you are and that of course you will leave the Army."_

"_Air Force," John corrected calmly, knowing his father was doing this on purpose to piss him off. "And it's too late. I already signed the papers." He kept from pointing out that he not only meant the papers for remaining in the Air Force, but also his divorce papers._

"_Don't be ridiculous. It's never too late. I'll hire a lawyer and with some well-placed donations we'll have you out in a few days and your marriage back on track."_

"_No."_

"_No?" Patrick Sheppard yelled his face turning from red to purple. "I am your father and I order you to quit hunting that stupid childhood dream of flying. Be a real man and face your responsibilities."_

"_My responsibilities?" John asked almost amused. How much more responsible could he be? He was serving his country. _

"_You are my son and you'll do as I say." John blinked at his father. He always resorted to authority if he was at a loss for arguments. But this hadn't impressed John as a child - why should it as an adult? _

"_I took an Oath, Dad, and I'm not backing out." John turned and slowly walked towards the door. _

"_John Sheppard, if you walk out that door right now, you will no longer benefit from our family money."_

_John froze, anger shooting sky high and he so had promised himself to remain calm. He whirled around to witness his father smiling smugly at him. _

"_I don't need your money." Patrick's face remained stoic. "I haven't in a long time."_

"_No, you haven't," Patrick agreed. "But you will one day when you come to your senses and stop fooling around."_

_John shook his head. "I don't need or want your money." His voice came out more subdued than he wanted it to sound. Why did everything always come back to money? John's eyes showed his feelings of dejection as his mind screamed, 'I need and want your love, understanding and support.' As always his father was deaf to John's silent plea._

"_If you leave now, John, you don't ever need to come back." John felt a stab. It wasn't the first time his father had said this, but John finally was done with it. This time he would take him at his word. Until now, John had always come back and his father had always welcomed him back. Or better said had taken John's return as his admission of being wrong. Patrick didn't know that it had been Dave who had made sure John had come back._

_John studied his father for a moment. "If that's an order," he said, giving a picture perfect salute before turning around and leaving his father standing in his office still spluttering. _

"_Don't you dare leave like that! Come back right now."_

_This time Dave was nowhere in sight to stop John leaving. He walked straight to the front door; nothing in this house belonged to him anymore anyway. Everything he needed he had in the small apartment he'd been assigned on base. He heard his brother hurrying down the stairs, but he pulled the door closed before he could hear him call for him. The taxi was already waiting anyway. John climbed in and gave the driver the address. He didn't look back once. _

John shook his head. He didn't even remember what they had truly fought about that day. It had always been the same. It had always started with something small and then had ended up with Patrick telling John to grow up and stop being childish. He had never understood that John loved what he was doing. Had never understood how much it meant to him.

John closed his eyes again as his feelings started to overwhelm him. He usually had an iron control, but he was exhausted. His mother would have understood. He sighed and opened his eyes again. Their chances to ever return home were slim to nonexistence. He should send a message to Dave at least.

He placed the camera on the holder again and pressed the record button. He took a few steps back.

"Hi Dave," he said unsure. "By now, you probably don't expect to hear from me ever again and, to be honest, if you see this you won't. I know I should have responded to your letters, but I thought it best not to. This was my life. I know you didn't understand that I couldn't just stop, but what I do - or did - matters to me."

John stopped and shook his head. Again he stepped forward and pressed the stop button. He didn't want his last words to his brother sound like another argument. He rewound and stood back again.

"Hi Dave," he said again. He tried to smile. "By now you should be married and have children. At least I hope you do. I know you probably didn't expect to ever hear from me again and if you're seeing this it means you never will. The enemy is right at our doorstep and there is very little we can do about it. I can't tell you where I am or who this enemy is. I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing good and that the past year, despite the circumstances, has been the best of my life. I'm sorry that I just left like that, but I'm sure you understand. I hope you have a good life. I have to go now so take care."

John stepped forward. He couldn't help but smile, feeling a little lighter. He pressed the stop button and sat the camera on the table. He yawned. He knew he should tape something for his dad too, but right now he was too tired. He would sleep a bit and maybe he'd have more of an idea come the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the second Part written by the wonderful Amycat8733. Thank you guys for reviewing and following. Please let us know what you think.

We appreciate every last one of you! Enjoy!

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Part 2

John stumbled into his bathroom. No sooner had he shut the camera off than his burgeoning headache had blossomed into a baby migraine. He reached out to the city and thought his lights down. The dimness helped some. He braced himself on the sink with one hand while he opened the built-in medicine cabinet that he'd discovered with the other. He shook out one of the migraine pills Carson had given him, popped it in his mouth and chased it with a glass of water.

The headache had been steadily growing ever since his recon mission with Teyla. The tension from their disagreement and the horror of watching a culling and being unable to stop it had started the headache.

As he lay on his bed, curling into his favorite sleeping position on the short bed, he debated what he would tell his father. He had barely started crafting his message when the medication kicked in and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, John felt better. A good night's sleep had done wonders. He rose and stretched to his full height as he went down his mental checklist. He had just turned to head for his shower when he spied the camera. A grimace crossed his face and he considered calling Ford and telling him to come get it, then reconsidered. He'd take a shower first and maybe get some breakfast then he'd record a message to his Dad. If the worst happened, he trusted O'Neill would find Dave and his Dad.

John considered what to say as he started his day. After breakfast, instead of heading back to his quarters to finish the recording, he went over the armory inventory once more and checked to be sure that every clip was loaded and every gun ready to use. Next, he headed to his office and finished his paperwork. No one may ever see it, but if they did they wouldn't be able to call him a slacker, not that he'd be around to care.

Finally, he decided he could put it off no longer and was headed for his quarters when Elizabeth called him for an update meeting. He looked down the corridor towards his quarters then turned and headed back to the Gateroom. Elizabeth's short update meeting took four hours, which was three hours and forty minutes more than his head could stand. His headache returned, the product of stress and not enough food. His steps were dragging as he entered the mess hall. Normally, the room would have been bustling with activity, but the impending invasion was keeping everyone busy. He grabbed a M.R.E. - turkey, of course and headed to one of his favorite balconies to eat and unwind.

An hour later, the M.R.E. was gone and with it most of his headache, with a helping hand from some Tylenol. He disposed of his trash and made it to his quarters without any more interruptions. He picked up the camera and set it on the tripod once more. Taking a deep breath, he started the recording.

"This message is for my father, Patrick Sheppard of Sheppard Industries."

"Dad, the last time we spoke, you told me that if I left that I didn't need to come back. Well, if you're watching this, you can rest easy that I will never be coming back, as I will be dead. The last time we spoke, you told me to quit chasing my dreams, but what are we but the product of our dreams? Your dream was to be a successful businessman. My dream was to fly."

"You told me that I was avoiding my responsibilities by serving in the Air Force. How much more responsible did you want me to be? Your world consists of meetings and champagne parties, but that's not my world. I never fit in your world and never would. In my world, I'm fighting to make the world better for everyone. I love what I do and I make a difference in people's lives every day."

"I wish I could tell you more, but the base I'm stationed at is classified. Someday, I hope you'll understand that I had to travel my own road and follow my dreams in order to be me. I have always loved you because you are my father, and your love and understanding was all I ever wanted in return, not your money. Money doesn't buy love and it sure as hell can't buy respect. One day, I hope you'll understand that."

"I love you, Dad."

"Goodbye."

John stopped the recording and turned the camera off. Reaching up, he wiped away the traces of the tears that were threatening to fall. Words were never his strong suit, but opening his heart to pour out his pain and try to make his father understand was difficult.

He tapped his com and called Ford to come get the camera. The sooner the camera was out of his possession, the less likely he was to erase it. His young second-in-command showed up quickly.

He opened the door and caught Ford giving him a once-over as he handed the lieutenant the camera. "I'm fine."

"If you say so, sir." Ford hefted the camera. "I'll take this to Dr. Weir so it can be sent off."

"You do that, Lieutenant."

Ford started to move away then turned back. "Um, if you don't mind my saying so, you look awful, sir."

John rubbed his forehead to ease his headache. At least it hadn't tipped the scales to migraine again. "I'm just tired. I wanted to finish that before I turned in."

"Get some sleep, sir. You can't fight Wraith if you're asleep on your feet."

John just waved him on as he stepped back into his quarters and the door whispered closed behind him. He stood in the middle of his floor for a minute then decided that a nice hot shower would loosen his muscles and help ease his headache. Two or three Tylenol wouldn't hurt either. He left a trail of clothes behind as he headed for the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, a cloud of steam escorted him from his bathroom. He pulled on boxers and a t-shirt, crawled in bed and closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.


End file.
